Without a Word
by bubblyangel101
Summary: "I can't believe I'm having this conversation in my pajamas." He laughs, then pulls her closer. "Well, no one ever said walking with thieves had to make sense." When memories don't seem to be enough, Aoko starts revisiting what she's lost-and Kid finds it all too hard to keep Kaito away. That is, if he doesn't fall for her first. Ch. 3: He leaves the jewel with her on a dark night.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Reviews are the only reason authors write faster. :)

Summary: "I can't believe I'm having this conversation in my pajamas." He laughs, then pulls her closer. "Well, no one ever said walking with thieves had to make sense." When memories don't seem to be enough, Aoko starts revisiting what she's lost-and Kid finds it all too hard to keep Kaito away. That is, if he doesn't fall for her first. [Chapter 1: He's holding, almost cradling, her hands in his, white silk fascinatingly smooth and the heat from his body intoxicatingly _real._ ]

oOo

Without a Word

Chapter 1

 _If you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything._

-Marilyn Monroe

oOo

It starts when she sends them. Letters and postcards and chocolate and keychains, cards and cards and cards. _Happy Birthday. Merry Christmas. Happy New Year!_ Those are the easy ones-the ones that she writes and smiles and thinks to herself, yes, yes, this is normal, this is good, this is what's wanted.

Then there are more. _Happy Hat Day. Happy Two-and-a-half Years Since the Aquarium Field Trip. Happy Step in a Puddle and Splash Your Friends Day While Running Up the Flagpole to See If Anyone Salutes_ (this one- _Made me think of you!_ she writes. And it does. He has no idea.)

There is something in the physical act of writing a letter, in the seal of the envelope, in the cardboard boxes that leave nicks and slashes along her hands-something that demands a response.

And so there is none. (Or does that count, too?)

In the daylight, there are only blue blue eyes and a smile and warm words and she closes her eyes and it _has_ to be done. Accordingly, she continues.

It's settling into a familiar pain when, nearly two years later, she sees blue eyes and black hair and laughter in a bar. She swallows as the world spins and then grows _**still.**_ Oh God.

It's not supposed to hurt.

Yamazaki-kun, the Task Force rookie Dad told her to pick up, shoots her an inebriated smile as she passes him. "They're at the station?! I thought we agreed on Ginza...eh, I had a couple," he slurs, cheeks pinking. But Aoko doesn't hear him, not when all senses are on pause and then _pulse,_ not when she's opening her mouth and the tears fall like cold silvered rain.

It's him. It's him. It's him, her nerves scream. Recognition slams into her and all she can think is I know you-I _know_ you-who are you?

"Waiter? Another drink for the lady, hmm?"

And he's not stuttering. God, no-this man is suave, eyes dark blue and seductive, smile and tie just crooked enough to scream _bad._ The girl latches onto his arm, eyes dark and beautiful, crossing one rail-thin leg over the other.

She spends that night on the park bench outside in the swings, eyes (un)focused, oddly detached.

After all, there is nothing to hold onto anymore.

oOo

She spends her days and nights talking to ghosts.

 _Aoko, wait up!_

 _Heh, bet you can't!_

 _Ew, GET THAT AWAY FROM ME!_

On the fifth day, she screams and punches her fists into the drywall, watching the blood run, knowing she'll have to pay for it. It doesn't hurt, really, and with a morbid fascination she stares at the crimson-in small amounts, a sign of life; in large amounts, the loss of it.

She's nearly lost all her friends from high school, with only Keiko calling every once in a while, but it still _hurts_ when she finds herself on a Saturday with an empty house-an empty house that's at once pleasing and all too full.

 _This is not what I signed up for,_ she thinks bitterly-then puts on her coat and goes straight out into the snow, wind whipping her face and broken hands, piercing and stinging and _finally_ there is something she can control. She stays at the park, at the clock tower, at _dong dong dong_ and _whoosh_ and _excuse me just passing through._

Her cell phone buzzes, and for a moment she's alive again, pulse drumming rapidly as shaking fingers type in the password, press on the 'messages' icon- _You have used more than 75% of your data. Start of this cycle: 11/01. Your next cycle-"_

She puts it back roughly, zippered pocket ripping across her hand, and lies down in the snow. Hypothermia, she thinks-well, but she's never hated the hospital anyway.

(Un)fortunately, her neighbor has chosen to walk by with a bag of groceries and promptly pulls her out of the snow and _my poor dear_ and _you really must eat more_ and Aoko laughs and says no she was just too tired, of course she'll take better care of herself, then goes home and breaks out the sleeping pills.

It's too cold.

oOo

This is, she thinks-no, breathes-days later, why she and Kid are pressed against the cold marble of the museum wall, why she can't seem to look away.

He's holding, almost cradling, her hands in his, white silk fascinatingly smooth and the heat from his body intoxicatingly _real._

She laughs then, a bitter sound resonating from the high ceilings, at his silence. Figures she'd corner him only after she's lost all energy to charge, after life has gone and turned and left her shaking, soaked and desolate as a shuttered cabin in the woods.

He only looks at her, eyes measured and even, taking in what she knows to be her shell. Seems to want to ask, to probe-then remembers that he's not a detective, only a thief that has kept her father away back when she thought something could have been done.

She smiles coyly, wanting to drag up some of Kaito and his last betrayal, wanting to shatter Kid's mirrors as well. "Like what you see?" she drags out, lips twisting, feeling adrenaline make her alive again for this one second.

He stiffens like a plant in a sudden frost, more masks slamming down before she can blink, then, accusingly-"This was self-inflicted." Tightens his hands around the bandages, blue ice boring into her, and _she does not know_ why she backs away at his sudden laughter. "Why, do you _want_ me to ask you why?"

 _I don't even have the luxury of saying I've been jilted_ is the first thought on her mind, then, "You're an insolent bastard."

"Taking it out on me, then?" A pause, then a careful bow, the ghost of a smile curving his lips. "Go ahead."

From anyone else it would have made her scream, made her glare-she doesn't want pity. But the mere fact that Kid-Kid, her sworn enemy, the man she had cursed and hated with a vengeance ever since his existence-has cared, that he has _cared,_ that while she thought she knew she doesn't really know at all.

She looks up at him again, the first of the tears from that day finally coming, blurring his image, aghast and self-deprecating and body, what are you _doing-_

-and then suddenly Kid's the wild one, hands gripping her shoulders painfully, lips crashing on hers, teeth knocking and fighting and it's as if he's trying to prove a point or kill them both; she's not sure which.

He leans back suddenly, leaving her reeling from the loss of warmth, from solidness, and all but _snarls,_ "Hit me." Shakes her roughly, eyes blazing and masks gone with the wind, and-

- _this,_ from Kid, from the thief who's never been anything but elegance and propriety and charisma-

-and she yanks him forward by his tie, foreheads colliding with a bang, and kisses him again. This Aoko has nothing to lose, nothing at all-this Aoko is bold and daring and feminine-this Aoko feels a fire start within her, the emptiness clearing way for primal desire and exhilaration-and after all, shouldn't she be entitled to stage a betrayal as well?

It's fast and furious and incredibly good: Kid puts up a good fight, but Aoko knows she has won by the look on his face as they break apart. Lips half-parted, eyes still lidded with unfocused lust, he stumbles backward as she looks at him, not trying to not think but not thinking anyway. "Well?"

He _stares_ at her, chest heaving, for once the one full of questions. "Why-"

"Because I hate you."

" _What?"_

She gives him a smile, then turns to walk away. "Is it really that much of a surprise? Didn't you get a kick out of the Inspector's daughter, too?"

Kid continues staring, then suddenly goes limp, eyes frosting over. "You wanted to degrade yourself." It's not phrased as a question.

It hurts that he can see through her just that well. "So I did."

Silence. Then-

"Screw him," Kid bites out murderously, hands clenching. "It was him, wasn't it? It _was-_ how could you let yourself-you're not even legal. Hell, you're barely out of high school-you-"

"And why would you care?"

"I-" A flash of blue, then the hat brim is pulled low. "Naka- _Aoko._ You don't need him. You think you do, but you don't-I've seen you, you're strong, stronger than so many-"

"What the hell? Since when have you been-been _stalking_ me?! And all I ever wanted was for you to be gone for good!" She feels hysteria set in-there's not enough air in the room-and now she's crying onto his shoulder, voice hoarse and dry. "All I-dammit, you-I-"

She hears the thundering footsteps of the Task Force far too late, hears her father start to growl curses at the thief and then stop, abruptly, at the sight of his daughter cradled in the thief's arms, struggling to breathe.

His hand moves from her shoulder to her hair, stroking it gently, and this is _ridiculous_ -being comforted by a wanted international criminal, for God's sakes-and for what seems like forever there is nothing but the hand and the comforting rise and fall of Kid's chest and silence.

Then, reality sets in, and as she pushes him away to pelt down the hallway she sees not Dad finally giving the order to chase him, not the men casting her worried looks and reaching out to stabilize her, but Kid's eyes, sorrowful and haunted, locking onto hers all the way home.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Please please please review! Not only do they make authors write faster, sometimes they're the only reason authors write at all. :)

oOo

Without a Word

Chapter 2

 _I no longer know who I am. I cannot recognize myself in the mirror._

-Arsene Lupin, The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsene Lupin

oOo

It starts before he knows-acknowledges-that it has begun. A confused laugh as she tucks a stray lock of hair back into place. Her hands pooling on her lap, playing with the fabric. The scent of soap and vanilla that always seem to be just her, for as long as he can remember, ever since thirteen when he had stumbled in on her in the shower and abruptly realized the difference between boy and girl (quite painfully), blue meeting blue, heart caught in throat for impossible seconds as she gapes at him and he is trying to tell his brain to come back and this is _Aoko, Aoko_ whom you will never hurt, who laughs with you and at you, who is wild and crazy and loud and cheery and absolutely breathtaking. (The skirt-flipping starts soon after.)

It grows silently in a corner throughout the years, a blurred dot on the edge of his radar-something always there but not registered, not _known_ simply because he doesn't know what to do with it-piercing through the veil in sharp stabs and slivers so suddenly he almost always feels a little faint. _Oh God,_ he thinks when he sees her at Tanabata. Waiting for him at a restaurant. Dressed up and on her father's arm on the way to a Task Force banquet, waving and promising to come back with more details on Kid if he will only just shut up about the stupid thief for a month.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. He's not blind to the glances the girls give him-his father was an attractive man, his mother beautiful, and it's not really surprising. He's not blind to Aoko's growing affection (even if Kaito didn't, Kid would know)-not blind to the way she blushes when he deliberately leans in, the way her fingers sometimes linger on his coat, the way she sometimes looks at him, long and hard and wistful.

If there's one thing Kaito can do, it's to laugh it all away, to hide under a veneer of smugness, centimeters away from the colder, crueler smirk of his alter ego-because Kid is smart, Kid is brave, Kid is calculating and everything that Kaito _isn't,_ can handle everything that Kaito wishes he could with the perfect ease of a cat stretching out lazy limbs. It cracks sometimes-no, often.

Nakamori-keibu has caught him more than once, which really translates to all the time. He sees it in the keibu's sideways glance when Aoko invites him over for dinner; when she beams at him, clasping the spatula with a (deadly) innocence that should be outlawed; when he can't help but let his eyes linger. And if their fingers brush one too many times when he's reaching for the dishes-hey, let her just think he enjoyed her cooking. Which he does. Of course.

He doesn't realize how fragile it all is, really-how much of a circus act he has made himself out to be-until after the first night, and then it is too much of a lonely road to dash back behind the curtains. He hasn't missed the way Nakamori-keibu has wilted in Kid's absence, has put Aoko back together too many times as a result-and in a way he tells himself that it's not really for him, it's for Dad. Or Aoko. Or Nakamori-keibu. Or justice. But not for Kaito.

Kaito is second to Kid, and this is true in everything from hate rants to leisure time to TV channels. He tries switching off the radio, pulling out Monopoly, broadcasting Aoko's favorite drama (and mind you, it hurt his pride to do so very much)-but it's no use. She's staring at the screen, fist clenched, shaking in misery and anger and frustration.

Three. Two. One. "Damn him. Damn him damn him damn him. I wish he would just die, the womanizing jerk-did he really need to use smoke _and_ ribbons? I honestly can't see why there are so many stupid fans out there. What's there to admire? His "bravery"-or his lack of conscience? His "charisma"-or his too-smooth lies? He's not doing it for the thrill. He can't be. Everything's too well thought out. He's just determined to waste his mind on something that's entirely wrong-when he could be helping us, saving us from thieves. But no, he needs to have his own brand of vigilante justice, of thievery done right, of reverse feminism and seduction and-"

"Aoko. It's your turn." He's been repeating the same words for the past five minutes.

"Oh," she blinks. "Where…?"

"You also just passed 'Go.' And hey, Aoko, don't feel too bad. The heist was a week ago; why waste a perfectly good weekend on rants? I'm sure-"

She huffs and crosses her arms, hugging her knees to her chest. "You. Out of all people-why? If I needed one person to sympathize with me-just one-"

 _Me too,_ thinks Kaito dryly, then almost jumps as Aoko leans back into his arm, blue eyes glistening with tears before she shuts them tiredly and sighs.

"Don't worry about it," she says. "It doesn't matter."

But it does.

Damn Kid, he thinks-for stealing not just Dad or Nakamori-keibu or Kaito, but Aoko too.

oOo

It says something about the state of his life when Kudou Shinichi, recently restored to his full size, raises an eyebrow and offers to make him coffee. Kudou Shinichi, who has been chased around by an evil syndicate for the better part of three years, been subject to numerous bone-melting transformations, been living under a perpetual disguise in close proximity to his greatest love and greatest enemies, been cursed with at least three murders a week since he turned fifteen.

"No poison. I promise," he says, a corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

"Alright. But there's no way in hell I'm drinking black."

Kudou says nothing, only pours him coffee, then tea, then reaches into his mother's cupboard to pull out three crisp wafers and a macaroon and laughs at his questioning gaze. "Think of it as-well, Kuroba, you're the only one I've met who has worse luck in love than I do."

Kaito pauses, then glares at Kudou and drains the black coffee all at once.

That night, looking at a list some one hundred gems shorter and still nowhere near Pandora, he lets down Poker Face and lets the tears fall.

oOo

He should have known it would come to this. Graduation has long come and gone, with Aoko heading off to TokyoU for criminal psychology (although she later switches to physics) and him to Tokyo Tech for chemistry. Not that the physical distance is hard, in the least-he could have made the hour-long drive every day. Easily.

No, it's the sudden knowledge that he has to let her go.

He could blame it on Snake, on the snipers. Say that they're stepping up their game-which they are-say that the snipers and bullets make it too dangerous for him to be around her. (Which it is.) He could blame it on maturity, on realizing that one person is too small a base with which to build the world, on riding one too many times on a shaky boat with nothing to gain and everything to lose.

He blames it on Kid. Kid, and what's left of Kaito.

("I swear I'll go insane," he mutters once.

Kudou laughs then, not quite bitter but not quite mocking either. "You have no idea.")

Slowly, carefully, methodically, he begins to slow his responses, Kid filling in when Kaito breaks down. A missed call here, a shorter text there-all insignificant, really, but adding up to a devastating blow. (Like the details behind the magic tricks-the ones that Kudou always figures out-the ones that change one's view of the world, if for a moment, then bring it crashing back down.)

He's good-better than he wanted to be. Aoko will never be able to quite put her finger on the point when it started to change, will never be able to find the one letter or one message or one call where he was different or not as close. And yet it was there, it was there all along, and Kaito knows that he's not only planned his burial but has hired the orchestra, chosen the coffin, and delivered the eulogy.

Still, though, she wouldn't be Aoko if she weren't persistently self-sacrificing-and he wouldn't be Kaito if it didn't hurt like hell. He hears the packages arrive with a light thump on his apartment door every time-starts to count off the days before the next holiday-keeps an iron-tighted fist on his self-control and succeeds for half a day. Then, heart pounding, tears open the boxes, opening the letters first, always, smooth paper made almost entirely dark from the wealth of words Aoko has crammed onto each sheet with her familiar loopy, devil-may-care style.

 _Dear Kaito,_ read the first ones. Then: just _Kaito._ And that's fine with him, really-really it is-as long as she's still thinking of him as Kaito, not Kuroba never Kuroba-but no, it isn't right, he shouldn't still _want_ it, goddammit, shouldn't still stash them away like the idiot he is-should change his address, return the packages, anything-anything-everything.

But he's already given anything and everything away to her, long, long ago.

oOo

Ironically, Kid hates Kaito just as much. Hates the emotionally-laden boy and his funks with a passion, because both of them know that as long as Kaito's lost in his head nothing will get done.

Jii-chan brings him more coffee, more bread, more miso soup, but it's no use when Kaito's there because Kid can clamp just about anyone out except for himself. It's particularly frustrating because of the new leads (he hopes), affectionately known as 'New Ways to Get Kaito Killed via Suffocation from Latex Masks (or Fangirls/Fanboys, Depending on Things that Depend)'-NWTGKK for long.

He can pull off the sleazy businessman, the social climber, the starving artist, all with equal parts perfection and disarray. (A misanthropic part of him points out that this is quite frankly because he is equal parts them and they are equal parts him.) Give him a prostitute, a CEO, a foreign agent, and Kid will gladly take over and lead the masquerade.

It's when he has to be himself that it's hardest. Of course-it seems obvious, and for once Kid is surprised that the world is making sense-but Kaito is not amused.

Sasa-something-or-other Yuiko is one of the ones that forces him to do so-one of the ones that Kaito knows from his mother, and that makes it strike dangerously home. When Jii-chan first tells him, he flat-out refuses to go; the stakes are too high, the net too close, the possible ramifications swarming Kaito's brain and setting the danger radar at full blast. But he wouldn't be the Kid if he never took all-or-nothing gambles-shouldn't even be alive, he thinks wryly, recalling suicidal leaps and turns and dodges and falls-and so he finds himself tucked away in a corner of a bar, decidedly _not_ Jii-chan's, struggling and failing to keep his hands from wanting to pull out a mask, sculpting putty, anything to make Kaito go away at least for this one job, this one time.

He smoothes his hair down into Kudou Shinichi, up into Okita Soshi, down again and to the side into Hideo, and screw this all, he is the damn _Kaitou Kid_ and phantoms don't have shaking hands. Maybe it's because he has no idea what to expect from this Yuiko, supposed friend of Mom's-has really no idea what she looks like either, and that's saying something coming from the Kid. Reports vary from over the years-from a petite, slightly older woman with laugh lines settling around rounded eyes to a slender femme fatale with a penchant for Fusae bags with three-year waiting lists, if you don't count the five years it takes for most Japanese citizens to afford the price. They vary, yes, but agree on one point: that she has long, dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

 _Thank God the hair is slicked down_ is all Kaito thinks as the femme fatale enters the bar, waist-long hair swishing delicately. Kid doesn't like where Kaito's train of thought is going, doesn't like how Kaito's eyes ( _his_ eyes, dammit) trace over her and search and search for the blue-eyed girl he hasn't seen in years, doesn't like it at all and promptly shoves Kaito out, allowing a faint trace of the Kid smirk to serve as his only greeting. "Sasagawa-san," says Kid curtly, tilting a glass up and hearing a satisfying _clink_ as the ice catches in the dim lighting.

"Kaito-kun," she says softly, young eyes wide and terrifying at the same time. "Why, Chikage-san never told me we were about the same age. Had I known-" she winks and laughs, and behind Kid Kaito's burning to get away.

"Waiter? Another drink for the lady, hmm?" he drawls out, mind a dazed jumble. This woman is Sasagawa Yuiko-no doubt of it, she matches the second description to a T-and yet she is the first one, the only one his mother had met, and that means serious anti-aging material. That, or applying aging makeup on purpose, and anything having to do with messing with time makes Kid's heart beat faster and Kaito break out in a cold sweat.

What _really_ unnerves him, though, is the fact that she knows he's trying to figure it out-knows and is watching him with a small smile; otherwise there was no need for her to come as the second one when Kuroba Chikage would only recognize the first. (Or would she? Kaito doesn't know, hasn't talked to his mother in ages-and regrets it now.)

"You're too young to want my secrets, hmm?" she all but purrs, linking one arm through his. "So tell me, who is it?"

Kid's smirk only grows wider. "Oh? And what if it isn't that I need to have them, but that I already do?"

She throws her head back and laughs musically. "Drop the act, kid," she hisses with a sharp smile. "Either you tell me who you want to save, or we have no deal at all."

"Straight to the point, aren't we?"

"Of course." She's released his arm to inspect her hands, long gold nails glinting dangerously. "Oh look, here's a spot-and I have to go for tea at noon. A pity, no?"

"My grandmother," Kaito cuts in, and it's not a complete lie-she is getting on in years. "She raised me almost completely on her own when I was younger." When Dad was traveling the world and couldn't take him. When Mom grew too distraught over his death to mind the living, breathing reminder of Toichi, when she dived into travel and adventure and adrenaline like she is doing now, like Kaito is doing now-except he has nothing to remind him of Aoko, nothing at all, and _dammit Kaito get out get out get out_ hisses Kid. _Get out before you kill us both._

She studies him carefully-inspecting the meticulously constructed mask of just enough frustration, sorrow, and fear with a practiced eye-then leans back with something different in her eyes, and Kaito lets out a breath as Kid fools them both one more time. "Alright," she says slowly. "Meet me again. Wait by the phone booth-directions will be given to you in half an hour. I'll consider it as doing Chikage a favor. That, and I always appreciate seeing a handsome fellow once more, hmm?" She leans in, hands running over his jawline, and he stands up abruptly, chair screeching against polished marble.

"Good day," he says flatly.

She opens her mouth to say something, then raises an eyebrow in what seems like...amusement? "My, my, Kuroba-kun-you never told me you were already off the market, did you?"

Kaito whirls around to see a lithe figure cutting away through the crowd, brown hair swinging like a curtain, face hidden from view-and of course it has to be Aoko, right here right now, his mind screams-when you've hoped and hated and wondered and _wanted_ her for so long, she has to show up now, and of course it just has to be the thirty minutes during which you appear as yourself out of all the freaking time in the world-

 _It's for the better,_ Kid taunts, and Kaito feels like screaming.

He should have known _not_ to go into this part of Tokyo; to cajole Sasagawa-san into somewhere, anywhere else; should have but _didn't_ and Kid hates him for messing it all up. Sasagawa-san raises the other eyebrow at his silence. "A jilted lover, then? Well-" she drapes herself across Kaito, one hand lazily tracing circles on his chest. "-seems like I still have a chance, hmm?"

Kaito is snarling, furious, tight-strung-and notices that she hasn't specified just exactly who has been jilted. Kid chuckles and catches her hands gently but firmly. "I'll let you get to that tea party." He watches her go as she smiles, brighter than ever, laughing all the way out, and contemplates staying in the bar for the rest of the night.

In the end, though, he stands stiffly to his feet, writes down the address and phone number with a steady hand, and goes home to stare blankly at blueprints and coffee all over again.

oOo

That, he thinks, days later, is why he's currently pressed up against Aoko, her eyes wide and breathing slightly irregular-or is that him? Is why Kaito lingers and refuses to go tonight-why even the Kid can't help but back away with a sigh. _Go on. Go on and blow your cover-sometimes I wonder why I even-_

Kaito doesn't remember anything, thinking back on that night, except stunning Kid into silence as he reaches out and kisses her fiercely, roughly, angrily-wanting to pull down his goddamn masks for once, hating the shadow of one he sees on hers-and really, it's been too long since forever and God, she'll be the death of him. Blue eyes glint in the darkness, too close and yet _not close enough,_ and halfway down the rabbit hole he knows he's already drowned, long ago, the spirit of a dead man the only thing keeping him alive.

It's hard and desperate and damnably wrong. He feels her shift, feels her struggle for air, and this helpless girl, this helpless _woman,_ who is she? Kaito falters, but Kid slams her back against the wall, feeling an inexplicable mixture of hatred and self-loathing for this-this _creature,_ who lets him into her world without a sound, years and years of barriers broken by one moment of weakness. Because it wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to leave them both torn and alone, wasn't supposed to plague him with guilt, wasn't-

Oh.

All angry thoughts go flying out the window as she pulls him close, that same fire dancing in her eyes-and god, thinks thirteen-year-old Kaito and the immortal thief in unison, she's beautiful. The veil's torn away entirely, tattered rags floating in the wind, sanity and self-preservation echoing their last cries as _want_ fills him head to toe. Kaito gasps as her fingers tug at his hair, eyes sliding shut-only to flutter open in bewilderment as she pushes him away smugly.

"Well?" she laughs, cold and brittle.

Kaito's frozen, undisguised hurt welling in his chest, mind still lost in the taste of vanilla and cherry-red lips. "Why-"

"Because I hate you."

Tired eyes slide shut. God, it's not supposed to hurt. He's been expecting it since he first took up the mantle-has heard her tell Kaito a million times over-and yet-and yet she must have felt _something,_ or she wouldn't have-he swallows. Hard. " _What?"_

"Is it really that much of a surprise?" Blue eyes sweep over him disinterestedly. "Didn't you get a kick out of the Inspector's daughter, too?"

He stares, the muddled cogs of his brain turning slowly, painfully, until he reaches what he's known all along. "You wanted to degrade yourself."

A pause, then an uneven smile. "So I did."

 _Look what you've done,_ sneers Kid-and then all hell breaks loose.

"Screw him. It was him, wasn't it?" Kaito hisses, wrenching her towards him. She lets out a cry as he pulls on her wounded hands-no doubt recalling him and that-that harpy from the bar. "It _was-_ how could you let yourself-you're not even legal. Hell, you're barely out of high school-you-"

"And why would you care?" She's breaking, mask cracking-one more pull and-

"I-Naka- _Aoko._ You don't need him. You think you do, but you don't-I've seen you, you're strong, stronger than so many-" _Stronger than I am, goddammit, and don't you dare prove me wrong._

She's shaking, eyes wide at the sight of Kid's seemingly incomprehensible anger, voice growing shriller with each word. "What the hell? Since when have you been-been _stalking_ me?! And all I ever wanted was for you to be gone for good! All I-dammit, you-I-" She breaks off as he pulls her close, eyes shut, heart thudding painfully.

"Shh," he whispers, threading trembling fingers through her hair, suffocating in her scent. "You're alright now. You're alright." Kid warns him of the far-off footsteps of the Task Force, of the fact that she's now blocking the window and his only escape, then shuts up himself as both selves agree to stay right here, right now, Pandora be damned.

She's warm and real and alive in his arms, a thudding _pulse_ that demands more and more oxygen.

One two three _push_ -and the door gives way.

Kaito makes no inclination toward the stunned Task Force, no elegant wave of the hand or tip of the hat; only fixes them with a clear, concentrated gaze. _Here's to you, Nakamori-keibu,_ he thinks bitterly, _for letting it get to this-where Kid can be closer to her than Kaito ever was._

Nakamori makes as if to step forward, then takes an involuntary step back at the sight of this new Kid, accusatory and frightfully gentle, a vicious guardian angel dressed fittingly in white funeral garb. Kaito smiles softly at the comparison, taking in the bewildered faces of the Force. Sees them trying to reconcile the image of the womanizer with the caretaker, of the immortal with his newly gained Achilles' heel-hears the inspector curse quietly, and knows part of it is because he didn't-doesn't-know what Aoko is going through.

The words, carried throughout the silent room, make Aoko tense and bolt away from him. He hasn't even had the chance to say _goodbye_ , to at least wish her sweet dreams, to-what? Kiss her again? Kid laughs, twisting it at the last moment to sound mocking, watching Nakamori's face clear because _now_ inspector and thief are back in their familiar rhythm.

"KID! Don't try to run, you-"

But by the time the smoke clears, he's launched five dummies and blended into the Force, pasting on a determined frown as he spends the night how he spends all of them, really: searching for something that will never be found.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: This is the chapter that just would not end (I swear, every time I looked over it I would be like 'Whoa whoa whoa not so soon!' and then have to rewrite it). Have been caught up in style clean-up and the usual messiness of school starting, but there is still a lot planned for this! Please review! :) ;)

oOo

 _Art is something that lies in the slender margin between the real and unreal._

-Chikamatsu Monzaemon, as quoted in the _Naniwa Miyage_

oOo

Perhaps the worst thing is not that he's not asking but that she sees him struggle not to.

Dad treats her like china after that night-jumps when she enters the room, fidgets when they're at the dining table (which is all too rare already) and excuses himself early. Aoko doesn't know if it's residual guilt at not being able to look at his daughter without thinking of Kid. But then again, she's always been invisible, and the change must be because now Dad has _realized_ that he can't see her. (And is this why Adam and Eve were ashamed to find themselves naked?)

The Task Force eyes her differently when she comes in as well. Most take after Dad in their sudden uncomfortable glances. Some-notably Lieutenants Sasaki and Honda-have been chasing for far too long to let her slip by unnoticed.

"Aoko-san," begins Sasaki the first time, not even ten minutes after Kid's departure, "we should really get started on you giving your statement-"

"That's already been handled by Haneda and Aikawa," Yamada cuts in abruptly. Yamada, who's too loyal to Dad to even think about grilling his daughter as she stands against the precinct wall, suddenly aware of how short she is compared to most of the men in the room.

Sasaki narrows his eyes disbelievingly, but Yamada is Old Squad-has been chasing Kid since Sasaki was in elementary school. "Alright," he growls. But that doesn't stop him from trying to corner her every time she sets foot in Dad's office.

Lieutenant Honda, on the other hand, is a chestnut-haired woman who only stands a few centimeters taller than Aoko. She is also, Aoko thinks, infinitely more devious and hard to read. "Aoko-chan, do you want to grab lunch now?" Translation: Would you like to sit across from me as you struggle to not tell me what I need to know? Or even worse, "Don't bore the poor dear. Here, Aoko-chan, read this magazine-" Which is, of course, surreptitiously flipped to the page with the feature about Kid.

What's infuriating is that, even after she gives her full statement (and not just once-other officers inevitably wander in as she's getting to the good parts, and then she has to start all over again under their watchful eyes), they still don't think it's enough. She sees the newer recruits gravitate towards her, hoping against hope that they'll find out something new before anyone else. But she doesn't blame them.

oOo

It's snowing when Aoko packs her bags and gets on the train ride home. She hasn't taken much, mainly a few books and her laptop (never too early to start break homework), and as she swings the backpack back and forth, it's easy to pretend that she's in high school again.

Light flurries stick to her eyelashes and nose despite the loose sweatshirt hood she's put up. With her stature, which is small even by Japanese standards, she's elbowed and nearly knocked over more than once by worry-faced salarymen and eager obaa-san on their way home. Aoko sighs, folding her arms in irritation, sneaker tap-tap-tapping against the platform.

 _Sometimes it's in a crowd that I feel the loneliest,_ admits Kaito with a wry smile, then reaches out and catches her wrist gently. Aoko startles at the memory-it was their third year and everyone was worried about the Center, but Kaito had insisted on taking the weekend off to go to the mountains because come on now, Aoko, how are you gonna do well on the big test if you have only frown lines on your face?

They had gone, of course. Dad hadn't noticed-it was the first weekend in three months that Kid hadn't done something-and Aoko came home to scattered beer bottles and takeout containers piling up in the sink. She smiles half-exasperatedly. It'll probably look even worse this time.

The train rolls to a stop. Aoko stands slowly, feeling high-school-Kaito rise beside her, and holds on to the bittersweet edges of the memory.

oOo

An unfamiliar man fixes his eyes on her as soon as she opens the door. "So this is Aoko-kun?" he says, and as Aoko's bristling from being called a 'this' Dad walks out hurriedly, setting the tray of tea on the table so fast the teacups clang and almost spill over.

"Superintendent Kawasaki, this is my daughter, Aoko. She's in her second year at Todai." He motions towards her to come sit down with a smile that is not quite firm, fingers fidgeting with his tie.

"Ah," Kawasaki drawls. "You've raised her well, Ginzo. And what has she been studying?"

"Criminal psychology, sir."

Aoko opens her mouth to state that she switched out of it early freshman year, that Todai doesn't offer formal specialization until junior year, but Dad silences her with a shake of his head. "Pleased to make your acquaintance," she offers instead.

Kawasaki is not a huge man, and is probably not taller than Dad, but he commands the room even when sitting down, eyes closed as he enjoys the tea. "And? Is Aoko-kun interested in following your footsteps?"

"It is not my immediate plan to do so, Superintendent."

"And whyever not? Todai's courses not intriguing enough for you?"

"I-" _I've had enough of fathers being called out to work in the middle of the night. Of death threats from criminals. Of paperwork and being too busy to be here._ "I'm still exploring at the moment."

"I see." Kawasaki opens his eyes and studies her for so long she can feel her palms sweating. Suddenly he sets his teacup on the table. "What was it like?"

"I-I beg your pardon, sir?"

"I was the one who assigned your father to catch him all those years ago, and yet I've never seen him up close. How was it for you?"

She sees Dad shift uncomfortably, not out of a desire to demand the superintendent settle for what's written on her statement, but rather out of a burning curiosity. Her heart sinks. "It was over before I knew what was going on."

Kawasaki doesn't shift his gaze. Aoko wonders if he's seeing all the gaps in her statement. That she hasn't told them about Kid's loss of composure. That she hasn't, God forbid, told them about anything besides that she was upset and he was suddenly there. "I thought it was just a random stranger," she continues, "and I've never seen him close up before this either-"

"You failed to notice when he changed into full Kid regalia before you? Did he drop a smoke bomb?"

"No, he just-"

"He changed while holding on to you?"

"I-"

"Did you catalogue any characteristics? The scent of cosmetics? The approximate width of his chest, his build, his height?"

"It was dark-"

"Even if the lights were out, there was an open window behind you with the full moon. Surely you must have-"

"Superintendent, I've told everything I know to the Task Force. They've taken my statement multiple times-"

"Yes, but there is something you could have recalled between then and now. Ginzo, your daughter must understand that we are very dedicated, and that she is the first solid lead we have had in months-"

"Yes, I fully understand," Aoko forces out darkly, struggling to keep her voice low. "I've been around the Force many times, and I've helped all I could, including this time. There is no one who would wish to see him captured more than I do, Superintendent, and if you're suspecting that I'm protecting him I would kindly ask you to stop doing so now, considering whose house I grew up in, and which values are instilled in me."

"Aoko-" begins Dad worriedly.

"I will let you know if I recall anything else. Please send my regards to the rest of the Task Force. Thank you for your visit, and I hope you have a great time in Ekoda." She stands and bows stiffly.

"Aoko-"

She promptly walks to her room, remembering at the last minute not to slam the door.

"I'm sorry, my daughter has always inherited a bit of a temper from her mother…"

Aoko buries her head in her pillow and screams silently. _I grew up with this stupid thief around, Kawasaki, with lonely Father's Days and an empty seat at my birthday and graduation and every event out there, and you think-you think-_

Bzzz. Bzzz. Aoko digs in her purse for her phone and takes the call hurriedly, trying to stop her chest from heaving up and down. "Yes?"

"Aoko-chan? Hey, are you back in town? There's a new sale at the corner cafe on Christmas cakes and I thought maybe-"

" _Keiko-chan?"_

Her friend laughs, bubbly and high. "Yup, it's me! Sorry I haven't been calling as often; I got caught up in classes. Man, I never expected university to be _so hard-_ "

"Are you sure it's university? Or is it your cute-boy stalking obsession?"

"Mou, Aoko-chan! You need to learn to appreciate the wonders of life some too, hmm? Broaden your horizons? Go on some dates?"

"I have no desire to spend the entire morning primping for a cheap takeout session in the park."

"Aoko-chan, I swear, don't grow up to be an old maid! I'll convert you someday. You still haven't answered my question, though. If you're back, we can go pick out one, and we can use it for a Christmas party! Just like old times."

"Yeah, I'm back. And just like old times sounds great."

"You always did throw the best parties, Aoko-chan. I can't believe we stopped having them…"

"We all graduated, and we all grew apart," states Aoko bluntly. "Even if I had had one, I wouldn't have known who to invite."

"Well, me, of course. And Hakuba-kun-he's cute. And Koizumi-san seemed to enjoy them when we invited her, and of course Kuroba-kun with his magic-"

"When are you coming over?" cuts in Aoko. "Actually, I'll go to you; Dad has a guest right now."

There is a pause. "Aoko-chan, are you and Kuroba-kun still not talking?"

"I'll be at the cafe in ten minutes."

"Why don't you try his house? He's probably back already-he's always been super homesick, right-"

"Keiko-"

"I'll bet he misses you too, Aoko-chan. How can he not? You two were so inseparable. To be honest, I lost a lot of money in the betting pool when you guys didn't start going out after graduation, and I could have bought so many new outfits too-"

"Keiko-chan. If he wanted to, he could talk to me. We've had this discussion before. I'll see you then."

"But-" _Click._

oOo

True to her word, Aoko does hold a fantastic Christmas party. It is apparently so great that everyone votes on coming back the very next week for New Year's, and even Aoko's terrible _osechi_ preparing skills can't convince them otherwise.

"Aaaa," she wails while mashing sweet potatoes for _kurikinton_ , narrowly avoiding smashing her hands. "I told them I can make anything but New Year's dishes, but still!"

"Aoko-chan, your Christmas cookies were too good to convince us of your 'bad' cooking skills," smiles Akemi-chan, whom she hasn't seen since the festival committee meetings back in second year.

"I can make anything but super traditional. Trust me, I've tried, and every time it ends up tasting horrible-you guys should just buy it all-"

"I'll take a chance on you, Aoko-san," smiles Hakuba-kun, and Aoko fights down a blush. He's as nice and charming as ever, and quickly making a (larger) name for himself not only at Cambridge but in both the London and Japanese police. "Here, let me do that." He reaches for her bowl, and their fingers brush.

Keiko chooses that moment to barge in with her phone. "How cute~~! Say cheese!"

The rest of the party passes in the same half-pleased daze, and if she's not looking it really doesn't seem to make a difference. Unfortunately, she does notice, and for their part Hakuba and the others avoid looking at Kaito's empty seat.

"I have something for you, Aoko-san," Hakuba says to her afterwards. "Just in case."

"Oh. I'm sorry; I didn't prepare anything for you-"

"It's fine," he says, cutting her off with a smile. "Besides, if you do catch him, you can just tell him we've both missed seeing him for much too long." He gives her a medium-sized box and leans in, tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear fondly. "I'm sure you'll get us something, Aoko-san."

oOo

Aoko's awoken on New Year's Day by the incessant ringing of the telephone. Dad hasn't even made it to the couch this time-is passed out in a heap on the tatami, snoring and with his tie still around his forehead (on it is scribbled "Kaitou Kid Task Force For the Win!"). She smiles. It looks like she hasn't inherited her party-giving skills from nowhere.

"Moshi moshi?" she mumbles blearily.

"Keibu, he hasn't even given us any hints this time, it's just sitting there and none of us know what to do with it-"

"This is Aoko. Dad's still asleep. Should I wake him?"

"Oh, Aoko-san!" The voice laughs sheepishly. "This is Officer Yamada. It's nothing much, really-just that Kid has sent in his customary packages-"

"Kid has _what_?"

"His-well-ah, it's kind of nice of him, really, even though we hate opening them and forensics takes forever to give them back-"

"He'll be there in ten minutes," says Aoko hurriedly, then shakes Dad back and forth. "Dad, Dad, wake up! It's Kid!"

Ginzo groans, then turns away, muttering something about butterflies and teacups and pounding hammers.

"Dad-"

"It's all right, Aoko-san. It's not something that he can usually help with either. Unless-you would like to try? To be honest we're all too afraid to even touch the thing..."

Aoko sighs resignedly. "Alright. I'll see you then. Happy New Year, by the way."

"Happy New Year to you too, Aoko-san."

She kicks on a decent pair of tennis shoes and pushes the door open, grumbling all the way. Stupid thieves and their early morning deliveries.

oOo

Officer Aizawa pushes a large cardboard box towards her with a remorseful grin. "Sorry, Aoko-san, but I don't think I can stand for getting my hair dyed duck poop green for three months-"

"You think that's bad? I had the frog bite me on both ears! And don't even mention the cantaloupe and the paintball gun rabbit-I'm still recovering from that!"

"That's nothing-I had all my underwear dyed bright pink with Kid caricatures! Even the ones at home! Even my _wife's_ underwear!"

Aoko pales, scrutinizing the unobtrusive package with new eyes. She frowns, then cuts the tape with a pair of nearby scissors and rips the cover open.

There is a collective intake of breath as she slowly lifts out-another package?

She opens it to find another, and another, and another, and yet another. The tension in the room is so high she feels as if she were in a serial murder investigation instead.

The last one-barely the size of her palm-is filled with bubble wrap and a single note on white cardstock. _Thought you might have fun with this when you're enraged, keibu,_ the note reads, _and in case you're wondering, my gift to you this New Year is no pranks in the wrapping at all! It was worth it seeing your worried faces. ;)_

"What was that?" sighs Officer Kanezawa. "And here I thought Kid would be more creative than-"

Aoko flips the card over to find a single line of text at the very bottom. _P.S. Your real gifts are hidden behind the water jugs in the break room. Have fun, but go easy on the late nights!_

"Everyone-" Haneda bursts into the room, covered in bits of white paper, blunted staples hanging from his hair, the words "Office Overload" on a sign hanging from his neck. "Don't drink the coffee! He rigged the machine-"

"Damn Kid," snarls Sasaki.

"Hey now, Sasaki," smiles Aizawa, "too much caffeine is bad for you! Maybe Kid's trap was set for you?"

Sasaki grumbles a clipped reply, and Aoko smiles despite herself. Might as well go see what the real wrapping pranks are.

She leans over the water jugs, only to find a mountain of smaller packages threatening to topple onto her. "What on earth..?!"

"It's alright, Aoko-san! I'll take it from here!" Yamada reaches out gloved hands to steady the pile and starts directing others to move the water jugs.

Aoko blinks at his attire. "Is that a-"

"Full bomb dismantling outfit, yes." He grins and winks, the wrinkles disappearing for a moment to show Aoko a flash of the vibrant young man who signed up for the Force all those years ago. "Borrowed it from the official squad, too-once we called _them_ in for the unwrapping, and boy did they not want to come back! Up side is now they let us use all the gear we want. It's just that it's a royal pain to put everything on."

"Oh. Well, I still don't mind helping-I mean, you've all been scarred at least once-"

"It's fine, Aoko-san," says Takeuchi from over her shoulder, also fully clad. "We'll take it from here. We were just joking about before, you know; the traps aren't usually sprung until you see the actual object. The inspector should be waking up around now, too."

"Alright, then, I'll make sure he gets here as soon as possible. Happy New Year's to you all, and I hope you get home soon to celebrate!"

"You too, Aoko-san."

And though she still isn't quite sure what 'home' and 'celebrate' will mean for her this year, there's something about the atmosphere that's contagious, and she finds herself smiling all the way home.

oOo

Kid, for all his taunts and tricks, can be surprisingly thoughtful. He gets Honda a website-by-website price comparison of the purse she's been eyeing for a while ("Apologies, but I'm afraid you wouldn't dare to take the actual thing had I sent it to you, my dear Lieutenant"), Kanezawa three tickets to see the Giants with his two sons, and Aikawa, who's expecting, a soft sheer baby blanket and a handbook of Do's and Don'ts. Aoko laughs out loud when she pulls out a whole pack of Korean facial masks and lip balms for her Dad. _Wouldn't want my favorite keibu to look worried over anything but me,_ the note says arrogantly, and though he pretends to be fuming, Aoko sees the corners of Dad's lips twitch upwards as well.

She's just about ready to throw the box in the garbage when she sees a small, paper-wrapped container jammed in the bottom corner. _For a certain blue lady's eyes only._

Aoko hesitates, then pushes the screen door open and walks over to one of the porch pillars. _Dearest Nakamori Aoko-san,_ it reads, _I would apologize if you would take it, but as the situation stands, suffice to say that I will refrain from such thorough investigation of-and intervention in-your personal life in the future. Your charming optimism and warm smile will take you far in life, as well as continue to shed light in the lives of everyone you meet._

Aoko lets out a startled laugh, recalling her shrill screams and harsh words. Charming optimism and warm smile? She debates for a while whether he's mocking her, then decides that she's not important enough for him to take the trouble to do so.

Under the note lies an adorable dolphin plushie that squeaks happily when she picks it up. _Aoi-iruka_ is inscribed on the bottom of its flipper, and Aoko can almost see Kid's smile. A blue dolphin for a blue girl.

She takes the dolphin and stashes it in her desk drawer, then takes it out and puts it next to her favorite mug pencil-holder. Not like anyone would know who it was from-and not like Kid would tell.

oOo

The next few heists pass in a blur.

For her part, Aoko stays away, stating that it's because spring has come and she doesn't want to fail end-of-term exams, but when she's alone she knows it's because she has no idea what to do. She's never been anything but a face in the crowd (albeit a disapproving one) to Kid, and this newfound spotlight leaves her equal parts anxious and self-deprecating.

When she does venture out, she makes sure she's never too close, but his sharp eyes seem to catch her all the same, the lilt of his voice changing just a bit, movements even more graceful and spectacular than usual. On the rare occasions that they do speak, she's usually too on edge to do anything but snap at him, and that's fine. She thinks.

oOo

He leaves the jewel with her on a dark, windy night, the traditional museum's rafters slanting upwards so steeply that Dad outright forbids anyone over 25 from even attempting to follow the thief to the roof.

"Aoko-san!" Kid calls brightly, a string of policemen yelling at him to get back here from three buildings away. "Were you athletic in high school?"

She starts in surprise. It's pitch black where she's standing, at least as far as she can see, and he's doing some complicated tap-dance maneuver with his feet while juggling a set of skeleton keys, a shining flashlight, what looks suspiciously like the newest pack of ultra rare Kamen Yaiba cards, and...the jewel?

"Only one way to find out, then. Catch!"

Aoko sees the jewel glint in the moonlight, and then it hits her hand hard, smooth edge digging into her palm. She almost collapses in relief when she sees that it's not broken. "Kid, this is worth more than most people's retirement funds!"

"Fast reflexes," he breathes from a few feet in front of her on the ground, then straightens up with a grin. "Knew I could count on you."

 _What am I even supposed to say to that?_ she thinks, and settles for glaring at him irritatedly.

Kid laughs softly, the sound filling up the air around them, and strolls casually to a stone bench, monocle glowing mutedly in the dark. "'From time to time, the clouds give rest to the moon-beholders.' Three."

"And may I ask why you're quoting Bashou instead-"

"Two."

"-of disappearing in your usual cloud of smoke?"

"One." Kid snaps his fingers, and the moon breaks through the clouds to illuminate his huge smile. "Lovely weather we have tonight, Nakamori-chan. If you would please…?" He holds his hand out for the jewel.

Aoko gives it to him unthinkingly, then gasps and tries to snatch it back. "You dirty thief!"

Kid holds it up just out of reach, tsk-tsking her with one finger. "Not this time. Why, I believe the fair lady gave it to me herself."

" _After_ you stole it first!" Then, warily, "What are you _doing_?"

Kid lowers his arm and tosses the jewel to her without a second glance. "Not what I'm looking for."

"What the hell are you looking for?" Aoko blurts out, throat suddenly tight as Kid turns his full gaze to her. "What the hell is worth running and breaking and entering and-" _Taunting my father and humiliating the Task Force?_ "-wasting your life and money for?" she finishes instead.

They stand in silence. Aoko tries to read him, but all she sees are varying shades of something unidentifiable, layer upon layer of grey.

"I can't just be in it for the fun?" Kid says finally, but he sounds so convincing Aoko knows he's lying.

"You're not that much of a jerk."

"I hate to break it to you, but I'm not a nice person, Nakamori-chan," he says, voice oddly strained. "And I'm not above using you to get to what I want."

"I know," says Aoko, casually inching her way closer to him and handcuffing him to her with a set of specially reinforced handcuffs, equipped with a tiny videocamera and even smaller tracking device. "And neither am I."

For a rare moment Aoko is treated to the sight of Kaitou Kid shocked speechless. "Try and wiggle out of these before Dad gets here, Kid-san," she says smugly. "I can tell you now that none of your standard issue lockpicks will work."

"That bastard Hakuba," swears Kid, then winks at her. "Thanks for saving me some time. Now I know which picks not to use!"

Aoko doesn't tell him that what they're really trying to get is footage of him up close, that she _has_ to do it to prove she isn't complicitous. ( _To prove to yourself,_ a voice says. Aoko tells it to shut up.)

Kid's frowning, strikingly familiar as he rolls his eyes and lets out frustrated huffs. He pulls out a set of tools and gets to work, holding a small flashlight between his teeth. "That...idiot…"

Aoko raises an eyebrow. "So you're mad at Hakuba-kun for giving these to me, but not at me for putting them to use?"

Kid laughs, blue eyes flickering to hers. "No, Nakamori-chan, I'm very proud of you. Didn't know you had it in you." He fiddles for a few more seconds, adding a few colorful curses to the mix.

"Do you greet your mom with those lips?" Aoko can't help but add in after a particularly graphic one involving ketchup, English muffins, and all the things he's going to do to Hakuba's poor Inverness coat on the Fourth of July. (She'll have to remind him to hide it in a better place than the coat hanger in his front parlor.)

Kid puts his tools away and leans down to whisper in her ear, the handcuffs releasing with a soft _click._ "As long as you like them, why should my mother object?"

Aoko gapes and makes to hold on to him, although it's useless because anything to do with Kid has always flowed like water between her fingers. He tilts his head quizzically but makes no move to shake off her fingers. "Nakamori-chan-" he begins, eyes strangely bright.

"STOP RIGHT THERE KAITOU KID!" bellows Dad (finally) from a few meters away, and when Aoko looks back Kid's smile is stiff and saccharine once more.

"My dearest keibu..." He's cut off by the inevitable horde of charging Task Force members and promptly sets off a cloud of pink smoke. "Goodnight, and goodbye!"

Aoko looks down to find her fingers wrapped around the sapphire, which she promptly returns to a red-faced Dad and glaring Lieutenant Sasaki. Her chest feels tight for some reason, and her face still tingles. She chalks it down to residual adrenaline at having nearly caught the Kid, and, feeling the energy drain out of her all of a sudden, falls asleep to the comforting rhythm of the car ride home.


End file.
